


Something About Voices Carried on Breezes

by angelheaded_hipsters



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, i call him blue but idk, literally what do you tag him as, the country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheaded_hipsters/pseuds/angelheaded_hipsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vignettes. Love is complicated and life is hard thing to miss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something About Voices Carried on Breezes

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop thinking about Transistor! Maybe I'll write something longer and more coherent later.

She didn’t dream of Cloudbank except in nightmares, which, for all the unpleasantness, was actually a blessing. Nightmare-Cloudbank was piles of blank white boxes, glowing cells, and a body slumped against a low wall. It wasn’t home. In her dreams, she didn’t miss it, or regret anything. She could save the regret for waking hours.

Blue knew not to ask her about regret. He almost did, one time, when they were making dinner. She was chopping onions, and she could tell just from his body language exactly what was simmering on his tongue. Wordlessly, she brought her knife up right against her larynx, carefully pressing it against her skin. Blue’s eyes widened and his shoulders went tense. He didn’t lunge for her, but he might as well have. She set the knife down on the counter, and crossed over to him, pressing close against his body. She could feel him breathing, and whispered gently “I know you’re curious. But that question would just make me feel voiceless.” She caught his chin then and pulled him down into a kiss. They both began to cry, then, softly. Whether the tears were from the onion on her hands or not, she didn’t know.

 

***

 

Sometimes she’d walk far out into the fields and sing to the sunflowers. At the sound of her voice, they would grow and stretch. Sometimes they would lean down to her, trying to brush her face with their petals. They did this mostly when she came up with lyrics, singing things she wanted to tell Blue but could never quite get out. They were sympathetic to the secret troubles of her heart and soul, she thought. She loved them fiercely for it.

Today, it was bright and hot, and the forest of flowers offered Red some relief from the beating sun. She stopped in the middle of the field, slumped against one of their stems, and began to play with melody. She hummed scales and then began to pick out a tune, pleased at how easily she could still leap from low notes to high. The lyrics came soon after, bubbling out of her nearly of their own volition.

“ _Your invisibility was priceless but now you’re all I see. They made me a warrior but I only fought for you. I could sing up bridges and bring back a city. But what I know best is how to be soft, Blue._ ” It was a forced rhyme, but not bad for a first try.

“Hey.” She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, and she started violently.

“Oh—Blue! That wasn’t—I mean I…” She trailed off helplessly, embarrassed.

“No, I like it! Keep going.”

“I can’t just do it on command!” She began to blush.

“You mean that was all improvised?”

“I just… come out here and sing sometimes. And stuff happens.” She shrugged.

“I know how you feel.”

“What? You don’t sing…”

“I mean… you think I don’t understand why you did what you did.” Blue sat down beside her, and she looked at him sideways from under a lock of hair. “When you came to sit beside me… when it was all over, after we killed Royce, I just thought I’d never see you again, because it’s not like I could interact with Sybil or any of the others when we were all inside the Transistor. I thought I’d lose you.”

“I didn’t want to live without you, not when—“ she began, but Blue was not finished.

“But then you found me, and I knew. You weren’t supposed to be able to find me, and you did. And now you sing about me.”

Red smiled at him. “You’re all I ever want to sing about.”

 

***

 

“Come on, cover hog, give me some!” Blue tugged at his corner of the blanket. “Why are you even the big spoon? I’m taller than you!”

Red was silent, and for a moment he thought she’d fallen asleep.

“Red?”

“Mm… I have to protect you.” The blanket muffled her voice.

“What?” This was not the answer he’d been expecting, by any means.

“You protected me and got impaled. I’m returning the favor,” she mumbled, and then curled even tighter around him, tangling his legs with her own.

Blue wasn’t sure how to respond to this, and lay quietly for several seconds, thinking. It was then that he noticed that her breathing had slowed, taken on a regular rhythm.

“Red?” he asked again. But she was really asleep this time.


End file.
